


Oregon

by tatooedlaura



Series: Life, Part 3 [8]
Category: The X-Files
Genre: Requiem
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-01
Updated: 2018-02-01
Packaged: 2019-03-12 08:00:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13543125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tatooedlaura/pseuds/tatooedlaura
Summary: She wouldn't let him go alone ..





	Oregon

She’d wanted to ask him what the hell was wrong with him when he dug out the orange spray paint all those years ago, marking their spot and her place in his lonely universe. She’d watched him smile at her, glee at nine minutes gone a thing of mystery, an unbelievable experience she never, in a million years, would have guessed would be significant seven years later.

“You’re an abductee, Scully. They’ve taken you and I can’t let them take you again.”

As she reached up, hallway silence pressing down, bees in the past, Krycek their present, fear their future, her mouth nudged his neck, then delivered the unthinkable in his ear, “they took you, too, nine minutes of you.”

He froze in his spot, blood surging truth closing his throat for a momentary eon, “I have to go though.”

“Then so do I.”

“Nine minutes, Scully, is not three months.” Hoping she’d believe the lie, “nothing’s going to happen to me.”

She hated that tone. She hated that she had no fight against that tone. She hated that she would have to let him go because if she fought him, argued, pleaded, he’s just go anyway. She hated that to keep him safe, she’d have to point him to the lion’s den.

At least she could do one last thing, however, “I won’t let you go alone.”

But she couldn’t be the one to follow.

&&&&&&&

Skinner, worn, frayed, regarded Mulder with slightly flared nostrils and a ‘don’t fuck with me’ attitude, wondering if he’d let the delusion carry on too long, progressed too far, turned to tell Mulder to pack it in, it was time to give up the snipe hunt …

but he was already gone.

&&&&&&&&

Scully had told him about the shaking, the vibrating, the electric feeling quivering every building block atom and fascinated that he had been suddenly consumed by it, it took several moments to notice the group 30 yards away, gathered in the light.

Teresa Hoese, her husband, countless others …

The pull to go to them overwhelmed …

The need to join, to stand in the light, defied nature …

But he remained rooted in place.

&&&&&&&&&

Skinner observed the lasers ends, creating awkward invisible shapes in the dark of night. Tentative hand out, he ran into something solid, mime-effect invisible box five inches from his nose. Had Mulder gone in? Been lured in? Taken in?

Pounding his fist to the unseen barrier, he prayed harder than ever before.

&&&&&&&&&&

Mulder watched Skinner in silence, looking from the crowd still gathered to the frightened man within arm’s reach but untouchable.

He could feel his resolve crumbling, his destiny in the light winning over his reality in the dark.

But still, his feet held firm to the Earth, one simple thing in his way …

His reality in the dark contained his Scully.

One flash of her smile, one remembrance of whispers in his ear, one momentary recollection of lightest finger brush to wrist, chest, steady thrumming neck vein, cemented his understanding of life and love; cemented his understanding that he finally had a place in the real world.

He turned his back to the light and stepped towards the dark, energy scrambling molecules, hairs standing on end, right into a fist-pounding Skinner screaming his name to the trembling night air, “Mulder!!”

Catching the man’s clenched hand before it could break his nose, Mulder gave him a small smile, “we should leave.”

And he let go, walked away, leaving mystery behind, equipment untouched, Walter astounded.

He was going home.

&&&&&&&

Skinner couldn’t find words until they reached the road, their car, parked over a faded orange ‘x’, “Mulder?”

Before he opened his mouth, the cell phone gods released unread texts and voicemails they’d been hording while the two men were in the dead zone to end all dead zones. 27 buzzing messages pinged Skinner one after the other while Mulder’s phone delivered nearly 40 of them, all from various Gunmen except for Scully’s simple ‘come home’.

Which is the only one he paid attention to, the only one he gave any kind of rat’s ass about.

Skinner pieced together the rest of the story after a conversation with Byers and after telling Mulder that Scully was in the hospital, it was all he could do to keep the man from diving out the moving car and running ahead to the airport, “I swear to God, Mulder, I will punch you if you do not take your hand off that door right now.”

“Then drive faster.”

“I drive any faster and we’re both going to die long before we reach the airport.”

Breathing deep, Mulder did his best to relax, the buzzing in his ears fading, his over-sensitive skin calming, “do your best, please.”

“I’ll get you to her, Mulder, I promise.”

&&&&&&&

He called her from the gate, watching the sunrise unfold across the cloudless sky, “our plane takes off in 45 minutes.”

Scully, in her hospital bed, curled on her side, staring out a different window at the same sun higher up, “thank you for not leaving with them.”

Not surprised she knew too much already, he touched the smooth glass, barrier solid, cool to the touch, “I told Frohike not to tell you.”

“He didn’t.”

“Then how … ?”

“I know you, Mulder. You needed to go to come back to me.”

“How did you know I would?”

“Because you told me the door is as far as you’ll ever go again.” Shutting her eyes, sinking deep in the pillow beneath her head, “you don’t ditch me anymore, remember? That and I’m pretty sure you love me a little bit.”

Sun breaking the horizon, pinks and oranges and fiery reds lighting his face, he grinned, “maybe a little more than a little bit.” Hearing the heavy sleep overtaking her breathing, he asked her quietly, “are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”

“When you get here. I promise, it’s nothing much. Honestly, I think the boys panicked a little prematurely.”

“I’ll be there in seven hours and I like when the boys panic prematurely.”

“I’ll be here.”


End file.
